A Howl in the Moonlight
by aspentree11
Summary: (Following the idea that Draco turned into a werewolf) After Draco endures a year of trying to find himself through bloodshed, body changes and family, he decides to re enroll into Hogwarts for his seventh year as a last resort for redemption, but what will he find when he does?
1. Chapter 1

The young man rubbed his eyes tiredly, exhaling so loud he could hear it echo against the small room. He looked at the crooked clock on the milky-white walls anxiously. _4:26 a.m._ The only thing that he could distract himself with was the cement blocks that enclosed him into the box-like room - well, that was being generous. It was more of a _closet_ to him. He leaned back in his metal chair, making a clinging _riiing_ against the unfolded table as he counted the blocks under his breath for the eighteenth time. The older man across from him, who was looking at him curiously and had sometime in the last hour taken on a red shade in his face, took this rebellion as a challenge. How many hours had the young man been in the facility? Five, maybe six? At first he had been completely silent, forced to be transferred through many suffocating rooms, with each a very different interrogator, until he found this man. Finally, a man who spoke English. Well, at least better than everybody else. Evidently, after You-Know-Who died, apparently the Ministry of Magic was now filled with a bunch of Peruvian idiots. Merlin, the young man thought to himself, I really hope my father doesn't hear about this.

"Excuse me," the man said, his choppy English rising four octaves, "I am speaking to you Mister Mafoy. If you cannot answer me I will be forced to-"

"Send me to Azkaban?" Draco Malfoy finished. "Please, do. I'm sure the fucking demetors could talk to me better than you can. Oh, my apologies, did I touch a nerve? Hell, might-as-well just bring Harry fucking Potter in here already. Doesn't he run this place now?" The man opposite of him gritted his teeth.

"Mr. Malfoy, I understand you've never endured being in custody before-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, wavering him off, "You aren't against using alternative techniques to get me to talk but _you'd rather not do that because I am barely of age_. Don't worry, I had at least five other dudes say that to me in the last five hours. But see, Pedro-"

"Mr. Lorenz."

"Just because of my condition, it does not mean I am the culprit for the Ministry's lack of judgement," Draco finished. "Now, as much as I love this hell hole, can I go back to school? I have finals coming up." The man squinted his eyes, snarling.

"You call your predicament a condition? Being a werewolf _should_ be a crime," the man spat, his eyes flashing angrily. "It's repulsive. How does a Malfoy become a werewolf anyway, hmm? Wanna explain that, Mr. Malfoy?" A surge of anger flushed through Draco so fast that at first he couldn't speak. His fingers were shaking along the folded chair that he had been seated on.

"If I'm here," Draco said slowly, trying to maintain the anger that he had for so long kept in, "Because I'm a werewolf, you better go back to library and read some law books, Pedro. That is not a crime. Now if you don't mind-"

"But she has committed a crime." Before Malfoy could even object, the man's thin, smooth palm slipped a small picture across the table, spinning it until it hit the tips of the boy's blue and black nails. His fingers curled around it, his eyes evaluating the picture. In the photo she looked perfectly normal - a nice summer dress, a large smile, curly brown hair that was braided around the nape of her neck. Despite the many times he had seen her, it wasn't until now that he finally _saw_ her. Her bangs tickled her eyebrows, she had high cheek bones and long ears. There were caramel strands mixed into the brown weave of curls coming out of the top of her head, and her eyes were like two dark moons. He let his lids cover his eyes for a moment, taking a steady breath. The last time he saw her she didn't look like this at all.

"Where is she?" Draco asked, first small, but then screamed, "Where is Hermione Granger?!" The man smirked victoriously.

"I see," the man said. "And you still don't think you've committed a crime?" Draco's eyes were wide, shaking his head fast as he tried to contain his anger.

"You judge me because of my father, but the war ended long ago. My father is in jail, and I am finally starting school again and about to finish my seventh year of Hogwarts. What else do you want from me? Just leave her alone," Draco croaked. The man smiled wider.

"It says in her file that she's a muggleborn. Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, how does a young man that comes from a family such as yours date a muggleborn?" He persisted. Draco leaned back into his chair, swallowing.

"It's not as difficult to imagine as you'd think."

(THREEDASHES HERE)

He was going to die.

He remembered once, when he ran away during the summer of his first year just to get attention from his dad, ending up in a street in muggle london and witnessing a figure lying limply on the street stilly, followed along with a large puddle of blood. Like a red, haunting shadow swirling around the body. He remembered questioning how that must feel, laying there and soaking in your own blood as everybody watched. To die with nobody to say goodbye to, yet in front of an entire audience. That was his first thought after he was bitten.

The wails of a woman and the laughing of a monster came after that. He remembered practically feeling the people around him, some finding it hilarious and others stricken with fear. He thought he'd never be able to move again. To stand up, to reach those people. He could barely lift his eyelids, for merlin's sake. His father, standing in the crowd far from him, shot a disgusted glare at his arm, as if _he_ had the audacity to judge. Draco followed his father's eyes and registered the dark gash for the first time. It stung, but the rest of his body was in so much shock that he was paralyzed. His mother was screaming his father's name, but his father didn't step towards him. Instead, his father reached for his mother and yanked her back before she could embrace her son, hissing something to her as he grasped her arms too tightly to ever be affectionate. Tears were pouring down her cheeks, screaming louder than he'd ever heard, as if trying to wake herself up from a nightmare that was already his.

"I'm going to die here," Draco Malfoy whispered to himself.

(THREE DASHES HERE)

"We should have let him die."

The sunlight beamed from the floor to ceiling window. He was wrapped in dark green blankets, in a large canopy that he had slept in a million times, but something felt different. Unfamiliar. He glanced down and looked at the bandaged arm, which now was bleating so hard he wished that something could rip it off. He had begged the healer to just blast it away – due it without magic if she had to, but she just insisted that it was pain that was making him think of such vile things. But it was more than just pain, it was something else. He didn't feel like himself. He felt different. Violated, even.

"He's our son, Lucius," a female voice reminded the other. That created a bicker to start.

"Not anymore, Narcissa. He's a monster."

"A monster? He's a boy! He's always been a boy!" And then the crying began. The soft, but still audible, crying. Draco winced.

"Do you see him? Do you see how his blood has changed him? He is no son of mine. He's a monster. A filthy, impure monster who is no son of mine."

" _You're_ the monster, Lucius. You're the one who made him this! If you had just stayed away from that stupid cemetery-" _Slap._ The sound made Draco turn in his bed so fast that he forgot he wasn't himself. Though this wasn't the first time he's experienced his father's abuse, he still in took a breath. Not over his father, but his mother's bravery. His mom's face was turned away, her thin hand touching the red mark on her cheek with her mouth slightly ajar. His dad loomed over her, his fists shaking angrily. He leaned close.

"You say that one more time and you'll be with a bunch of muggles," he hissed, turning his head towards the canopy again to get one last glimpse. But as his father's eyes swept over Draco, Draco's eyes pierced him harshly. His father stepped back, gulping and a flicker of fear in his eyes. For some reason, Draco wasn't surprised his father was suddenly afraid of him but he didn't know why.

(THREE DASHES HERE)

"It seems as if the Dark Lord won't put the mark on you due to your…new state." There it was. The bomb drops. Lucius finally reveals the truth. How long had he known this? From the beginning? For weeks? Was this the resolution that the Dark Lord wanted for his failure? His mother was sniffling again. He looked up, digesting the scene. Lucius was looking at the large courtyard ahead of them, but his mother was in a woman's arms. He didn't really know the woman, probably just some other wife of a death eater, but he didn't care either way. He was just amazed that Lucius and mother were in the same room.

"So I can't have it? That's it? He won't even try?!" Draco was on his feet, his white hands clenched into balls. Lucius whipped around, the tail of his robe smacking the window, and looking at Draco with fury.

"Are you surprised? You got that bite because you were a failure, not because he thought you were strong." Lucius was a lucky man, Draco thought immediately. Since he had been bitten, a strain had begun between them and both of them, to say the least, have changed. Instead of Draco begging for attention and Lucius using him for bragging rights towards other wizards, a string of hatred and embarrassment was shared amongst them. Lucius no longer murmured his name unless he had to, and his mother believed the only way to keep Draco safe from the world was to lock him inside. Because of this, they agreed to take away his wand in exchange for living there and it was good for Lucius because if not Lucius would have been hexed by now.

"Surely," Draco's mother croaked, "The Dark Lord still has a purpose for Draco? He won't-"

"Kill him?" Lucius laughed. "No, he'd rather use Draco against me. As if he was still my son." Draco turned his head away, his teeth gritting uncontrollably. _I would rather be at school then this_ , he thought to himself, not for the first time. Maybe he'd have to deal with Harry Potter's so called "defense group" sooner or later, but at least he wouldn't have to live with Lucius. To even hear the name "the Dark Lord" in his father's voice. But until he found a way out, he would have to find a way to survive.

"You're wrong," Draco hissed under his breath, but somewhere he knew the Dark Lord was chuckling.

(THREE DASHES HERE)

"I can't do this. I can't-I can't." It wasn't his first transition. Every month he would prepare – new chains, solid foods so he wouldn't puke in the beginning, a good sleep in hope that the transition wouldn't be too tough. He tried different potions so that he could maintain lucid, but even while lucid nothing seemed right. Everything was distorted- unfamiliar. If anything, it just stopped him from attacking house elves. He had already accidentally killed three of them.

"You can, Master Malfoy. You can." Draco peered up at the shaking house elf, his hands clasped tightly in front of him nervously. Draco gritted his teeth, about to spat something, but then stopped himself. It was always him and the elf in the large courtyard. Not his mother, certainly not his father, nobody to hold his hand while all of his bones broke and repaired themselves without any pain relievers within a matter of minutes. But the elf never faltered to be by him.

"Why do you always volunteer?" Draco demanded as his fingers dug into the ground tightly when a surge of pain rippled down his back forcing him on all fours.

"Wha-What do you mean Master Malfoy?" the house elf fidgeted. Draco rolled his eyes and groaned impatiently. The house elf's incompetence was nearly as bad as transitioning.

"To stay here with me. To watch me be a monster. You don't have to – it's not like I would remember if you're here during my transition anyways. I always black it out." The elf's large eyes blinked in surprise.

"Tabby doesn't think you're a monster, Master Malfoy," The elf said honestly, his shaking ceasing for just a moment. "Master Malfoy is in pain. Tabby wants to make sure Master Malfoy is okay and doesn't feel alone." Draco held his breath for a moment, a sudden pain clanging in his chest. But it wasn't because of his transitioning – it was because of Tabby. Someone, even if it was just an elf, cared.

"You don't have to," Draco spat. "I don't need your bloody sincerity, you stupid elf." But the words didn't puncture him.

"Tabby isn't leaving, Master Malfoy. Even if Tabby dies, Tabby will not leave." Draco, without meaning to, felt burning in his eyes. Suddenly, as his hands turned to paws and ears started to sprout from his head, he felt warm tears pour down his monstrous face. He collapsed onto his stomach, unable to fight the pain, the werewolf inside him, the fear that wounded him so tightly together.

"Thank you," he whispered, right before he howled so loud he was sure the all of London could hear him.

(THREE DASHES HERE)

I was going to finish this off but I wanted to see if anyone liked it so far. At this point, I'm starting from the beginning. There will be a few more flashbacks from Draco's transition before I go into the story. Si or Nada?


	2. Chapter 2

"I heard you were dead." Draco sat up quickly in his bed, his eyes immediately meeting the small, gangly girl in his doorway. At first he couldn't even speak, as she was the first person to visit him since his accident. Her hands were clasped in front of her, a red circle ringed against her left eye, as she leaned against the door frame. Her black dress, as if dressed to see the dead, was tickling the top of her knees, bravely showing the marks that he knew that she secretly bared and rarely showed. She looked cautious, but not scared, as she tilted her head at him impatiently. Immediately he jumped out of his bed and pushed himself towards the far wall.

"Pansy," he breathed heavily, shaking his head, "What the fuck are you doing here? Who let you in? I never said you could be here! I-I never said anyone could be here!" She bit her lip, her eyes finally scrolling around the room. She eyed the ten or so dishes piled on top of the table that he once used for studying, and wrinkled her nose when she noticed the piles of dirty clothes littering the floor.

"Draco, this place is a pigsty," she said, her nose flaring. "What happened to you? I heard-I heard about your accident, but I knew-I _knew_ it didn't kill you so I decided to see for myself." He was breathing hard.

"It doesn't matter," he seethed. "Ju-just go home, Pansy." She huffed.

"I'm not leaving, Draco. Where the merlin have you been? I've been sending you messages for weeks asking if you were okay! Don't you understand how worried sick I was? People telling me that you _died_. And all it would take is a measly letter from you just so I knew that you were-"

"A disgrace?" He finished. "Worse than dead? Because I am, so there's no reason for you being here."

"Hah! I don't have a reason to be here?" She asked, not missing a beat. "Well, I want to know your reason on why you have insisted on being a complete hermit in this cold-ass house like some-"

"Get out!" He snapped, his voice shaking as he tried his best to shout at her but it only let out as a whisper. "You want a fucking _reason_ , Pansy? It's over! The betrothal has ended! You are no longer dedicated to the House of Malfoy. There is no reason for you to be here!" She winced, taking in a breath. While she and Draco had never actually directly spoken about it, they both knew that they would be one day arranged. Ever since Draco started at Hogwarts his mother had repeatedly told him to grow close with her, while her mother persisted on her seducing him so that, as Pansy said once on a drunken night that she no longer remembered, " _he would at least have one reason to marry her_ ".

"But, Draco…we're still friends," she whispered. "Even if we weren't…arranged, I still bloody care." He took in a heavy breath, trying not to feel the pain that was building inside of him. Her words, _Pansy's for Merlin's sake_ , leaking with so much sympathy that it nearly made him sick, boiled in him and he felt a sudden wrench of guilt. They were the only thing each other had – Pansy coming from an abusive family that suppressed feelings and Draco having everything but nothing at the same time.

"You know what happened?" He asked, each word hurting more than the last. "About that wretched, foul Greyb-"

"Yes," Pansy said. "They're saying a lot of things about you, but-but Draco, I think they're wrong!" He closed his eyes, feeling the tears burn in the back of his eyes.

"No, they're right, I'm a filthy, half-beast monster," he argued. She took two strides into the room, shaking her head quickly.

"Have you lost your mind, Draco?" She snarled. "Don't sit there and feel bad about yourself. They're idiots. All of them. They're all a bunch of morons who worship this-" His eyes flashed quickly, and he released himself from the wall to take a step towards her.

"Don't say it!" He snapped suddenly. "Don't you dare say anything against The Dark-"

"A psychopath!" She finished, but this time louder. He walked towards her quickly, only stopping once they were an inch away.

"How dare you? As a pure-blood say such vile things about the Dark Lord? Especially here!" He spat. She shook her head at him.

"Draco, do you see what he did to you? Just because you couldn't kill the most powerful wizard on the planet he decided to make sure you were bit and tried ruining your life?" Pansy continued. Draco's upper lip curled up.

"Why are you here if you think this whole thing is so dumb? I told you once and I'll tell you again Pansy, I don't want anything to do with you if you're going to turn into a bloodtraitor so-"

"He raped me." The words slipped out of her so quickly that he almost didn't catch it. His whole body loosened, his mouth parted. For a moment, as he looked at her, as he allowed himself to digest all the ancient scars she had received that marked her body and the red ring that circled her eye, all the anger vanished.

"He…He what?" He asked quietly.

"My father. He raped me," she said, her eyes building up in tears. "You-Know-Who went to our house and basically called my father a disappointment last night and the moment You-Know-Who left, my dad decided to take it out on me. Because of _You-Know-Who_." A tear was slowly slipping down her cheek and her lips were trembling, but her back was up straight and she looked, in her own way, terrifying compared to a werewolf.

"You told me once that if anything truly bad happened to me, you'd stand up for me," she whispered. "Let You-Know-Who kill every muggleborn, let our parents stay on their knees for his approval, but I'm done playing these games – my father hurting me, hearing about this 'Dark Lord' nonsense, hearing about duties as a pureblood. I'm going back to school next week so I'll never be at risk to You-Know-Who again. Fuck Harry Potter and his stupid gang. I know I said that I might stay here and consider fighting but-but…I don't want to be a part of it. I don't want to be a casualty in this hell hole. Come with me, Draco." At first, he considered it. He looked at her, tempted to catch the falling tear rolling down her face. But who was he to Pansy? A companion, a potential boyfriend, or just a friend? Was he even obligated to care?

"I won't," Draco said. "I'm going to prove my father wrong, Pansy. I will get the Dark Lord's approval."

(three dashes here)

 _Why is Hermione Granger in my living room?_

He knew it was them the moment he saw them. A bunch of swollen faces wouldn't stop him from recognizing three idiots who he was forced to see every day for over six years, and the fact that Death Eaters wanted him to enter the living room – to verify that these mutilated faces were theirs, was absolutely ridiculous but borderline hilarious at the same time.

It had been weeks – months, since Pansy had visited him. He would like to say that he was thankful for his choice, but he regretted it. He regretted it the moment she left his doorway. And now they were here – the trio in front of him, his obsessive father, his frantic mother, a few men he barely remembered, and _Fenrir Greyback_. The monster gave him a quick smile when Draco entered the room of commotion, but this wasn't the first time Draco had seen him since the accident. In the last few weeks, he had seen him almost every godforsaken day. The first time of course, weeks ago, Draco had tried killing him. But what was a master werewolf versus a wizard without a wand?

He looked at all three of them, ignoring the bickering between the monster and his parents behind him. He wished he was surprised to see the three of them in his living room, but for some reason he could see them landing themselves here to save their pathetic friends who were happily locked in cellar. Bellatrix, on the other hand, was coaxing him towards them as she occasionally bickered with his mother and Lucius. Draco eyed the trio, his mouth opened slightly. They looked like a horrendous mess.

 _They deserve this_ , a voice said in his head, _remember how much Potter overshadowed you in school? When that pitiful peasant made a fool out of you? When that mudbl_ -he winced. Since the last few weeks, he started cringing at that word. He no longer saw the undying appeal at killing all of them, to be honest. In the beginning it was mildly humorous, but why does it matter? He has seen so many of them die, including one of his own professors, that he was almost repulsed by the word.

He felt his mother slip his wand – which he hadn't grasped in ages, into his pocket.

"Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?" Draco exhaled as he stared at them all. This was his moment, he realized. The moment he would finally be above Lucius and finally have The Dark Lord's approval. Lucius would forever beg on his knees for Draco's attention.

"I-" But then he looked at them. _Really_ looked at them. Potter's eyes were blank as ever and trying to not look at him as much as possible, Weasley's was cold as ice, but Granger's? For a moment it seemed like she could see right through him. Not scared, not begging, not resentful, but analyzing him. She could see how vulnerable he really was, he thought. She knew something was wrong, he realized as she tilted her eyebrows down. She knew something had shifted in him.

He hesitated, naked as her eyes nailed on him cruelly.

"I can't tell," Draco heard himself lie. He felt a shiver go through him immediately, trying to shake away the fear that was now suddenly filling inside him. Within a moment, the adults had broken into an argument again. As Lucius and Greyback argued, Draco stepped back away from the chaos. Within a moment though, Lucius was grabbing him, pulling him back. Draco sucked in his breath as he was eye to eye with Potter once again.

"There's something there. It could be a scar, stretched tight. Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?" Draco's eyes stayed on Lucius for a moment, unsure how to take Lucius' desperation.

"I don't know," Draco said. His mother, just as desperate, accused Granger of her identity. He bit his lip, trying his best not to meet her eyes again. _Tell the truth_ , he said to himself. _You want their approval, you want their acceptance, who cares about Granger?_

"I…maybe…yeah." But she looked up at him and he couldn't help but hold her gaze. He hated her, but even he could admit that her obnoxious brilliance could see past his persona.

"But then that's the Weasley boy!" Lucius said, as if his brain cells had finally come to use for the first time in years. Draco turned around, suddenly feeling horribly sick. They would probably kill them, he realized. Another pile of bodies he would have to see, and yet eighty percent of him didn't care, but that twenty percent haunted him. What was he doing? Was he really turning into the monster Pansy was afraid of becoming?

"Yeah. It could be," He heard himself say in a small voice. But as soon as he said it – the moment he knew that his life would never be the same – he felt like he couldn't breathe. He tried tuning them out – Bellatrix, Greyback, Narcissa, everybody. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to _exist_. He just wanted to leave, to be safe. But now he was here, with three people he used to think were his enemies and his family that now seemed like his biggest problem.

"All except the mudblood," he heard the words say. He woke up. He looked at Bellatrix and then at Granger. Was she…was she truly going to kill her? For a moment, he lost all the nerves in his body. Granger was foul but she didn't deserve to die, not really. Even if he had said it before, he didn't understand the power of death. She was just a girl. How many people would he have to see die before it was enough? How many had to perish before he could accept that Pansy was right?

"No," he whispered to himself, but his voice was invisible. He was still as stone as Bellatrix dragged her to the middle of the room by her hair and, almost elegantly, began to trace her skin with the knife. Draco felt himself slowly step back, shaking his head frantically. He couldn't watch this, he realized quickly. He saw this girl every day for practically six years, loathing her for her strength. She was everything he wanted to be, except now he was able to watch her break. But not like this. Never like this.

"Let her go," he tried to yell, but it only came out as a whisper "Stop. _Stop_." Granger's screams were echoing in his ears, along with Bellatrix shrills, and he couldn't stop it. Granger, whose voice was louder than he had ever imagined could reach, made him breathless. This had to stop, he realized, he couldn't watch this. Granger's eyes connected with his, and they were desperate. Her eyes latched onto his, begging. Pleading. He knew that pain. He knew the pain because he felt it every day.

At that moment there wasn't anything he could do. He could barely breathe.

"She isn't going to tell you anything!" He finally snapped as his psychotic aunt, barely loud enough to be in ear shot, but far too small for Granger's moronic friends to hear him. His psychotic aunt tilted her head at him, just as her knife was about to slice Granger's neck.

"Draco, go see the other two-"

"No, send Wormtail!" Draco's mom snapped. He turned around, looking into her storming grey eyes, furious but terrified. While his mom said nothing, and never would, they both knew that he saved Hermione Granger's life because she wasn't going to breathe a second more if he hadn't defended her.

"He's…He's dead. He's gone." As soon as You-Know-Who was destroyed, they ran. They were so in awe that they couldn't even apparate. With Lucius dragging along, he and his mother ran far into the forest, escaping the mania that had ended. Finally, after sprinting for about half an hour, his mother collapsed against a huge tree with the trunk about six feet wide.

"Good," replied his mother. Lucius' eyes darted to his mother angrily, walking towards her slowly with balled hands as she flinched.

"You wretched-" but Draco stepped in front of her and rose a wand to Lucius' face– he couldn't remember how he got it, but somehow he managed to snatch someone else's wand from the battle and he held it tightly. Lucius laughed.

"You don't have the nerve-"

"I loathe you more than anyone. Even more than the Dark Lord. _Try me_." And Draco meant it. The wand felt warm in his hand and the only thing that forced him to hesitate was the fragile woman behind him. He could see from his peripheral vision his mother shaking uncontrollably and held Lucius' gaze as he sneered.

"Kill your own father? I raised you, even when you turned into a filthy monster I still raised you," Lucius hissed. Draco rolled his eyes for the first time at Lucius.

"Raised me? For the last year you have abused me and Mother simply because you weren't man enough to step up. I hate you. If you don't deserve to die than you deserve to rot in Azkaban until you die," Draco snarled at him.

"Kill me, lock me in jail," Lucius mocked in a sing-songy voice, much like something his dead aunt would do. "How are you going to do that, Draco? Your precious mother saved us all and we both know that I'll be pardoned. How are you going to punish me now? Always weak, always the boy who would never be able to live up to the Malfoy's standards?" And then Draco's fist collided with Lucius jaw, knocking him backwards against the stump.

"Just because you can take credit for your wife's courageous actions, it does not mean that you will be able to defend the slaughtered house elves that you purposely left for dead just to make me hate myself, the dark artifices that fill your home, every cruel step you have ever made that the Ministry didn't notice. You will be in jail, Lucius Malfoy. For a very, very long time."

(three dashes here)

"I'm leaving." It was the first time he had spoken in weeks. His mother, as always, was in her room, looking out her large window longingly. Draco bit his lip as he leaned against their doorframe. So many things has changed, he noticed, as he looked into her room and flickered his eyes out into the long, dark hall. Despite the fact that almost everything in the house, including the items in their bedrooms, had been taken out after the war, mostly for investigation by the Ministry of Magic after the battle, she looked lighter. Happier. There was color in her cheeks, she smiled more. There was something he had forgotten that was in her eyes before you-know-who came.

"You're…you're leaving?" She replied quickly, blinking. She didn't look sad nor ecstatic. She looked empty, as if hanging on to his words desperately, not daring to share an emotion before she heard his last word. He swallowed nervously, the pit of his stomach filled with nausea.

"To school," Draco said slowly, licking his lips as he chose his words carefully. "They're reopening it this year. I…I got a letter from Professor McGonagall. Not a charming lady, but she…" He reached out from his pocket and with cautious steps laid out the letter in front of her on the bed, sharing a nervous smile. "She wants me to come back." For a split second anger filled his mother's eye, something he hadn't witnessed in years. He stepped back on his heels, cautious, almost forgetting that she wasn't the violent parent – Lucius was.

"Draco," she said, her voice struggling to remain calm as she scrunched the letter up before even glancing at Professor McGonagall's words, "You can't. It's a trick. They're just trying to mock us, those bastards. Don't you see? We're safe here, Draco. Here. We can't-"

"She wants me to be head boy," he cut her off. "She wants me to be head boy because she believes that we must all come together again. Don't you want that, Mother? Don't you want me to be safe?" He grew closer again, sitting on the bed slowly, hoping that she didn't notice the fear shiver in his breath as he reached out to her.

"She…She also said I had the second best marks before my-my-" He choked for a second. "My accident in sixth year. She said it would only be fair if I came back and-and it would set a good example for the other students. Peace." His mother looked at ludicrously, shaking her head quickly.

"Draco-"

"Mother, it's only for my last year, it's not that big of a deal. I'll come back for all the holidays, and I'll make sure to write you at least three times a week, and I'm sure she'll let me leave for weekends if I tell her-"  
"Draco!" His mother's voice rose, forcing him to flinch. "Do you want this to end? Our happiness? We just got everything back!"

"EXACTLY!" Draco bursted back, breathing heavily. "I want to do this, Mother. I don't want to be locked up in this house anymore! Now that Father is gone, I want to start over…I want to be something in this world other than Lucius Malfoy's son." Her mouth closed as she leaned back against the pillows. He noticed tears start to build in her eyes.

"And your condition?" His mother asked. He nodded at her, biting his lip as they shared a look of worry.

"I told her and she has a solution," he told her.

(three dashes here)

"No. No bloody way." He was trying to be nice, he wanted to say. The train was spurring and while many people were gawking at him as he strutted across the platform, Draco Malfoy, for going back to Hogwarts, he had one last thing to do before he was on his way.

Of course, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasel- _Weasley_ were facing him, wordless. He could tell that neither of them were planning on going back this year as both of them were empty handed and wearing suits with nametags on the jackets. Draco took a deep breath as he tore away from Weasley's eyes, who he had attempted to shake hands with, and then shifted his hand to Potter. Potter blinked at him stupidly.

"Potter?" He asked, motioning to his hand. _Shake it, you idiot,_ he wanted to say, but he remained silent. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force them to do it. But he needed them to forgive him. Or at least pretend that they didn't think he was a total asshole.

"Please," he whispered under his breath, shame filling his stomach. Weasley, who was red in the face, was shaking his head quickly at Potter.

"Don't do it, Harry," he said. "He's a bastard. He doesn't-" But then Potter's hand clasped his hand firmly.

"To new beginnings," Harry agreed. Relief flooded across Draco's face.

"And Weasley?" He said, giving Weasley another chance as he put his hand in front of him. Looking away grudgingly, Ronald quickly shook it, barely touching him as he huffed. A small smile sprawled across Draco's face.

"And…And Granger?" Draco asked hesitantly, glancing around. "Is she here as well?"

"Why would you care where Hermione is? Not going to kill her for being muggle-" Potter shoved Weasley back quickly, covering his mouth.

"If you want to shake her hand, she's on the train already," Potter said, nodding. Draco looked at the train, watching as kids flooded it.

"I'll make sure to shake her hand," he lied, remembering the haunting look in her eyes.


End file.
